The Biggest Lie I Believed About Fitness: A Personal Trainer’s Confession

When I was a kid, I was overweight.

Not just a little bit—I felt it. In how my clothes fit. In how I moved. In how I saw myself next to classmates who seemed to glide effortlessly through P.E. or join sports teams like it was second nature. I never felt like one of them. Activity, exercise, fitness—it all seemed to belong to someone else. Someone with more energy, more coordination, more motivation. Someone who actually wanted to do it.

And still, I wanted to want it.

I wanted to enjoy working out. I wanted to look forward to movement. I wanted to crave vegetables and jogs and hydration. And for a while, I thought that if I could just lose the weight… maybe I’d get there. Maybe once I looked the part, I’d finally feel the part.

That was one of my goals when I first committed to training and nutrition: not just to look better, but to feel like someone who enjoys healthy habits. Someone who wakes up early for a workout because they love it. Someone who walks past a donut and grabs a protein shake because they want it.

But here’s the truth:

Over the years, that didn’t really happen. Not like I thought it would.

Me at different stages of the weight loss journey from 2010 - 2013.

Even now—10 years into being a personal trainer, years into maintaining a healthy weight, staying strong, and helping others do the same—I don’t feel any more “motivated” than I did back then. I still have days (most, actually) where I don’t want to work out. I still have to nudge myself to get moving, to prioritize my health in a world that’s pulling me in a hundred other directions.

In fact, I probably have more reasons now to skip it. I’m busy. I’m tired. I have responsibilities. And every single day, I have to flex a little bit of willpower just to walk through the doors of the gym.

And you know what?

That’s OK.

The greatest lie I bought into early on was this: “One day, I’ll feel like it.”

But maybe the most empowering thing I’ve learned is that you don’t have to.

Not everyone is supposed to fall in love with exercise. Not everyone is going to be wired to crave kale or deadlifts or early morning runs. But that doesn’t mean you’re broken. It doesn’t mean you’re not meant for it. And it definitely doesn’t mean you can’t still take care of yourself and reap the rewards.

That’s the other thing no one tells you when you’re starting: over time, you can make it easier.

Not by becoming more motivated, but by reducing the friction. I’ve learned what type of training works best for me. I know how to structure a week of workouts. I understand what movements matter most, how long to train, what’s worth sweating over and what’s not. That technical clarity—the simple checklist of “what to do and how to do it”—has made it less of an emotional mountain to climb every time.

When I started, it felt like every decision—how long, how hard, what to eat, what to wear, where to start—was another layer of stress. Now, it’s just a habit with structure behind it. It’s still work. It still takes effort. But the resistance is lower, because I’ve built a system that serves me.

I may not want to work out every day, but I do want the results—strength, confidence, athleticism, energy, and the ability to show up fully in my life and for the people I care about.

That’s the tradeoff. That’s the real motivation. Not the fleeting feeling, but the long-term outcome.

So no, you don’t have to love working out. You just have to love what it gives you.

And if you’ve ever felt like the outsider in fitness—the one who just doesn’t “get it”—I see you. I was you. And I’m here to tell you: it’s still possible. You’re not lazy. You’re not unmotivated. You’re not broken.

You’re just human.

And that’s more than enough.